Thursday, January 18, 2018

The Practice of Becoming Invisible

"A Fragile Ecosystem"

My wife and I live in a desert, a place considered by many
to be a spiritual environment. Many
biblical stories take place in a desert setting and to this very day people go
out into the desert wilderness to spend time away in personal reflection and
meditation.

Every morning I hike along one of the many trails around our
house that lead out into the deep wilderness,but yesterday I was suddenly struck with an
awareness of exactly why a desert is indeed such a spiritual place, Yes,
the vast wilderness and towering mountains elicit a sense of transcendent majesty
and the silence is always profound, but what makes the wilderness particularly
conducive to spiritual awareness lies in the fact that a desert is an extremely fragile ecosystem.

Environmental scientists tell us that in a fragile ecosystem, even the smallest changes in temperature,
amounts of water, sunshine, wind velocity and a host of other environmental
factors have a significant impact on the entire system.This is true because, in a fragile ecosystem, everything in the system
is profoundly interdependent. Everything belongs together - no one single element stands out in importance, every
single element is as important as the other.

When I hike out into the wilderness, it seems like there is
nothing out there but endless horizons of dry sand and piles of rocks; and yet,
this is a place that is literally teeming with life, most of which is hidden
from and practically invisible to the undiscerning glance of the naked eye.

On my recent hike I became acutely aware that the desert was
replete with living creatures of every sort and type - insects and ants, roadrunners
and rabbits, hummingbirds and bats, snakes, bees and lizards; and yes, there
are people here also.The desert floor is
covered with seeds and bushes, trees and cacti that will blossom overnight with
just a sprinkling of rain. The morning sun, the blazing skies of night, the
wind howling through the canyons - everything swings and sways together in a
vast and breathtakingly beautiful cosmic dance.

One of the books I’ve read on desert spirituality explains
something of why a desert is such a spiritual place:

Deserts confront us with a vast
horizontal edge,

a horizon of emptiness in which
we find ourselves absorbed and lost.

The desert is intrinsically
hostile to the ego.

This is indeed the spiritual lesson the desert teaches – it
is a place for discerning the cosmic dance, a place that is hostile to the ego.

The fragile ecosystem
of the wilderness teaches an enduring spiritual truth: nothing and no one stands out as being more important or more valuable
than anyone or anything else - life is sustained and thrives only in a climate of
mutual interdependence.

The author and poet, Akko Bush, has suggested that the
spiritual journey is a process of learning how to become invisible:

Becoming invisible doesn’t mean
that we deny creative individuality,

nor does it mean that we must
relinquish any of the qualities

that make us unique, original,
singular.

Rather becoming invisible is an
insight

that we are of a larger world,

giving us fuller appreciation for
our place

in the greater scheme of things.

Throughout most of my life I devoted myself to finding ways in
which I might “stand out” and benoticed so as to make my way up the
ladder of success. The desert is a place where I am now learning how to become
more and more invisible. I am learning
that I don’t have to stand out to find happiness, I don’t have to prove my
importance in order to experience esteem, I don’t need to perform every day as
if I am an actor on a stage seeking the applause of the audience.

The more I am able to shrink my ego, the more I find my true
self. The more invisible I become the more I realize just how valuable I really
am.

About Me

I am a teacher, a writer, and a spiritual guide. I am an ordained Episcopal Priest and hold degrees in theology, philosophy, and communication. I am particularly interested in the common spiritual insights which the many various world religions share with one another.

My wife and I live in the beautiful desert in the Coachella Valley of Southern California.